


Count Your Blessings

by 4badmice



Category: Diagnosis Murder
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Romance, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-19 07:10:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3600927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4badmice/pseuds/4badmice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve ponders the beginning of his and Jesse's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Count Your Blessings

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine.   
> Contains general spoilers for the series.

 

Heavy rain was pelting against the windows, almost literally drowning out the steady noise of the ocean. Somewhere in the house, I heard the faint sounds of a jazz orchestra, telling me that my dad had come home and was winding down. Outside, the wind was even picking up. I only marginally registered all that, however, because my focus was on the person who was with me: my personal marvel, the man I more than anything wanted to spend the rest of my life with. He was sleeping in my arms, having succumbed to exhaustion after a long shift at the hospital. His head was resting on my shoulder, and when I craned my head in the right way, I could just see his face. I was certain that I'd never tire of just looking at him, there was too much loveliness. Almost gingerly, because I didn't want to wake him, I touched his temple, running my fingers over the soft skin and along the shell of his ear, savouring how good it felt. I only stopped when he gave a startled little mewl, which he sometimes did in the night as well when something disturbed his sleep, albeit never really waking up. A testimony of his active mind, I guess.

"It's all right, sweetheart," I murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair. "Just me."

He exhaled and, after sighing almost inaudibly, slept on. Gently, I wrapped both arms around him, feeling a sudden and strong urge to protect him. When he was awake, he was easy-going and buoyant, someone people quickly trusted and whom one could rely on. Involuntarily, I smiled: he just was like that, he couldn't help it. And yet, when he slept, he seemed fragile and much younger than he was. I felt a rush of possessiveness and for a moment was maddeningly jealous of everyone else in his life. Not for the first time, I was suddenly aware of our age difference, since I was fifteen years older than him. Then I relaxed again, however; he had chosen me, after all. We had chosen each other, to be more precise, and it had happened rather slowly.

At first, he had been nothing but a fresh new face my father had taken under his wing. Quickly enough, though, Jesse had become more than that- a friend and a confidante, taking up the empty space Jack had once occupied. I can't say at which point I realized that I was attracted to him, but I did my best to hide it. Which wasn't always easy and at times I found it difficult to even talk to him.

It broke my heart when I had to arrest him back when he was wrongly accused of murder, and I managed to hide my concern behind impatience and at times snappish behaviour in Jesse's presence. I'm still sorry about that, incidentally. I couldn't comfort Jesse when I visited him in jail, as much as I wished to simply gather him in my arms and hold him. I didn't sleep well during that time, since I lay awake, unable to stop my reeling thoughts and hoping Jesse was safe.

I didn't know that the attraction was mutual, of course, since Jesse was equally good at hiding his true feelings. After his release, we continued to be "just friends", if increasingly close ones, through whatever was happening. And then, one night after I had nearly been shot during a hostage situation, Jesse unexpectedly showed up at my house. By showed up I mean that he was standing in front of my patio door very late in the evening, soaking wet because the weather was as bad as today, and looking distraught, his eyes large in his otherwise white face: "Steve," was the only thing he managed to say after he had come in, and I most vividly remember how my heart thumped against my ribs, how Jesse was trembling, how it felt to pull him close and kiss him. I knew that I was risking everything in case I was wrong about what I had just read in his expression, but luckily for me, I wasn't. I didn't meet any resistance, on the contrary.

Pressing another kiss into his hair, I recalled how amazing it was to be finally able to touch him in a more intimate way, to feel his lips against mine, his hands on my skin. He was so much smaller than I am, his frame slender and lithe. He was muscular too, a result from running and all the surfing he somehow manages to squeeze into his busy days. I felt strangely dizzy when he allowed me to peel him out of his wet clothes and began to unbutton my shirt in return, but there wasn't a single moment of doubt or hesitation on either side; it simply felt right.

We took our time mapping each other's bodies; he wanted to know the stories of those of my scars that he hadn't seen before, and there are quite a few. It was so easy talking to Jesse, I didn't once during that night worry about my being so much older than him. We just fit together, there was no awkwardness, no fear. In fact, I was so overwhelmed by everything that was happening that I must have grinned like a cat who got the mouse, but Jesse assures me I didn't. "And anyway, you'd rather be a lion," he keeps saying. "You've got the mane and everything."

I love thinking back to that night roughly a year ago that changed everything. We slept a little and woke up early. The storm had died down in the small hours, the day promised to be sunny. For a while, we just lay and looked at each other, trying to fathom what had happened and how this new situation was going to develop. Jesse looked adorable, tousled and still a little sleepy as he was. "I'm glad you're here," I said, and he smiled, his eyes wandering over my face: "Me too," he murmured. But I could tell something was bothering him.

"Out with it," I therefore demanded.

Jesse fidgeted a little: "Well... my car's in the drive. What'll your dad say if he sees it?"

"He'll think you're out for an early surf," I quipped.

Jesse didn't look appeased.

"He knows that I'm bisexual," I said. "He's okay with it. You know him, Jesse, he's very open-minded." Though to be honest, I didn't confide in him for a long time. When he did find out at one point, my father reacted so unperturbed that I was completely dumbfounded.

"I don't care who you're happy with," he said, "as long as you _are_ happy."

"But what if... don't you want any grandkids?"

At that, he looked at me over the rim of his glasses for a while before he answered (I felt all but x-rayed):"I'd love to have grandkids, Steve. But that's not my decision, it's yours. I love you, no matter what. I feel that I've been blessed with a truly wonderful son, so I've got plenty already." He smiled, if a little sadly, and I knew that he was thinking of my sister whom we hadn't seen nor heard of in a very long time.

I felt so touched that I didn't know what to say. I hugged him instead, taking a moment to appreciate this amazing man.

I told Jesse about that, and he seemed to relax a little. "So... you don't think he'll mind that it's me, of all people?"

"He loves you, Jesse. He won't mind at all."

At that, Jesse positively beamed at me, and I felt my heart beating wildly in my chest. Those moments will stay with me forever, at least I hope so.

 

The cooling temperature in the room pulled me out my musings and back to the present. The increasing twilight announced that it was getting dark. I reached out and pulled a blanket over us to keep warm.

I had been right about my dad: he didn't mind. He looked a little surprised when we both came into the kitchen for breakfast, then his eyebrows rose: "Was it your car I heard late last night then?" he asked Jesse, who was subconsciously hunching in on himself a little bit.

"Yeah...," he answered, sheepishly, "sorry if I woke you up."

"Oh no, you didn't. I was still up, reading." Dad looked from Jesse to me: "So- are you two an item now, as they say?"

"Yes," I said, "we are. It's new."

Dad grinned:"To you, maybe."

"What do you mean?"

"Well... let's just say Amanda and I had a little wager going."

Now Jesse and I looked at each other. "Was it that obvious?" he asked feebly.

"Only to us," Dad said, smugly, "seeing as we know you both rather well."

"Oh," Jesse said, sinking into one of the chairs, "that's comforting."

Sniggering, my father continued to make coffee.

Jesse was uncharacteristically silent after we had sat down at the table.

Dad however regarded him with what I can only call a benign smile: "I'd now welcome you to the family," he said, "if you didn't already belong here. So I guess all that's left to mention is that I'll of course have to kill you if you ever hurt Steve."

Jesse blushed at these words, but then he slowly broke into a smile as well: "Thank you," he said softly.

Later on, he told me that he wished he knew how to tell his mother, who kept asking him if he had found a nice girl by now. I didn't really know what to say to that, since I had met his mom and could well imagine her being less than pleased.

 

I was once more brought back to the present when Jesse stirred. It was completely dark by now, and the rain was still coming down hard. From the way his breathing changed, I could tell that Jesse was waking up. I reached over to the nightstand and switched a light on; I wanted to see him. He yawned and clumsily rubbed his eyes, taking his time to shake off the last remnants of sleep.

"Hey you," I all but whispered.

"Hey," he whispered back, a smile in his eyes. "Did you sleep?"

"No," I nosed his hair. and inhalted his scent, "I just enjoyed all this. I still am."

"You old romantic," he said, and the smile deepened.

I chuckled: "I'll show you how romantic I am." Gently, I pulled him up and towards me until he was lying fully on top of me.

"Not bad," he murmured against my mouth. "I could get used to this."

"Shut up," I replied and kissed him.

After he had told his mom about us, about being gay, she hadn't spoken to him for several weeks. Jesse had tried to not let it on, but it had been preying on his mind more than he'd admit. He was happy with me, I'm proud to say, but the whole situation still wore him down. He lost weight and often looked tired, and it was difficult to watch. He didn't want me to talk to his mother, and I respected his wish. At one point my father however decided that he wasn't going to look on any longer, and took matters in his own hands. He called Mrs. Travis, who in turn called Jesse, and between them, they managed to sort it out. His mother may not exactly be pleased with the recent developments (though I was assured it's nothing personal), but at least they were talking again and Jesse was doing better. The past year had been confusing and overwhelming enough for him as it was. In private, he had come to terms with his sexuality some time ago, but coming out and actually living it was a different matter. In hindsight, it's tremendously brave of him, and I feel that I have to be grateful to the people around us who helped a great deal with that. We didn't shout our relationship out, of course, but people talk. Our friends and colleagues however for the most part were amazing, and it made things a whole lot easier particularly for Jesse.

 

"You're pondering," he softly said now, studying my face, and I was once more stunned by the intensity of his gaze. He is handsome, certainly, but above all, he is just lovely, in looks as well as in demeanour. I don't know how I deserve to be so lucky.

"Well," I replied, gently reinforcing my grip around him, "I was counting my blessings."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Since I'm not a Native Speaker, there might be mistakes I overlooked during editing. Sorry about that!


End file.
